


5 Times Cas sucked at being human (and one time he didn't)

by CastheNerdfighter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bunker, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, human!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-06 05:01:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10326143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastheNerdfighter/pseuds/CastheNerdfighter
Summary: Under whatever circumstances you want, Cas becomes human. He still doesn’t quite grasp the nuances of living the life of a human, but Dean is more than happy to help him out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Basically just a fic of all my headcanons about how Destiel could become Canon. I love fics where the author explores how Cas would react if he fell and became human. I'm only on season 8 of supernatural at the moment, so excuse any inaccuracies to the show (besides the whole gay thing). :)

              Everyone knows that Sam and Dean don’t sleep. They’ll get their four hours when they remember to, and through a combination of caffeine and adrenaline, manage to stay alert on hunts. But in their precious free time in the bunker, when they aren’t saving the world, they get caught up. They have it down to a science.

              Cas, however, does not.

              The ex-angel was still learning how to be human. He didn’t understand a lot of the aspects of his new form, from hunger to the random aches and pains he got after they got back from a hunting trip. Dean was always telling him to slow down, rest, and generally act like the mortal he now was. It was strange for Cas to know that he was aging like he never would have as an angel. He wasn’t sure if he liked that fact or not.

              They had just gotten back from hunting down a particularly nasty nest of vampires, and Dean and Sam were exhausted. Cas had mostly been doing research with Charlie, who had helped them track down the patterns of the vampire attacks. Dean was always happy to see her, but he was adamant that she not get herself unnecessarily into danger. Hence the Cas babysitter.

              So while the boys slept in their rooms down the hall of the bunker, Cas putzed around. He had only been human for a month, but he was already starting to feel at home in the bunker. He had his own bedroom, though he seldom remembered to sleep there. He mostly took an occasional cat nap on the couch. When he wasn’t with Sam and Dean on a case, he helped them sort through the many books and artifacts that had been stored in the many rooms of the bunker. He was good at identifying the more obscure objects and myths, and Cas welcomed any distraction he could get.

              And Cas really needed a distraction.

              Dean hadn’t wanted to let Cas hunt with him, saying he had a chance for a normal life somewhere far away from monsters. But Cas was stubborn, and when Charlie called with a string of attacks that turned out to be a Windego, he tagged along. He couldn’t teleport wherever he liked anymore, but he found it calming to watch the scenery go by in the back seat of the Impala.

              Cas didn’t find being human all that terrible. In fact, it had its moments. He could see the world as the Winchesters saw it, not as a combination of the many wavelengths of light he had once been able to detect, but as the beautiful chaos of nature. He especially loved to sit in the woods or in the middle of a field and listen. He couldn’t hear much with his crappy human ears, but if he concentrated, he felt like he was one among the birds and insects. He even had Dean install some honey bee hives near the bunker, though Dean made him put them half a mile from the road. He felt a different kind of connection with the tiny animals, different than that of when he was an angel, but not a bad sort of different.

              He also felt more connected to people. On cases, he couldn’t feel the emotions of people, but he slowly learned from Dean about human _instinct,_ or _gut feelings_  as Dean called it. He still sometimes read people wrong, but Sam and Dean were very patient with him.

              The most stark change was the faces. As an angel, he saw the true faces of all creatures, which had come in handy with spotting demons. He no longer saw the souls of his friends, but instead their human faces. He had always felt a _more profound bond_ with Dean, but when he laid eyes on Dean for the first time, he had to admit, the man was pretty.

              Cas was noodling around in the kitchen when his thoughts turned to Dean. Over the last month, he had grown quite close with the man, _literally._  It was funny in an ironic sort of way, since once Dean had clued him into the idea of _personal space._ But the taller man seemed to take every opportunity to touch him. Cas had known Dean for years, but now his frequent friendly touches and occasional embrace (when Dean may have gotten a little drunk) affected Cas differently now. He felt Dean when he was in the room, and missed him when he wasn’t. It was all very confusing for Cas.

              As he got out the ingredients for a berry pie, Cas turned on the radio. As a human, he was not longer in tuned with Angel Radio. The silence in his head had made him uneasy, so Dean had rigged him up with a new “Angel Radio,” which was just a CD player with radio capabilities and the word “Angel” scrawled on it with sharpie. He had also given Cas a bunch of CDs and cassette tapes of _essential_ music. Cas enjoyed a lot of the music, and even had a favorite CD he liked to listen to.

              Cas was happy. He had a home, he had friends, and he had a purpose in life. He loved being a hunter, and even though he wasn’t nearly as powerful as he had once been, he finally had something he never really had as angel – free will. He could help people, and kill monsters along the way. After making this argument, Dean had suggested Cas go to school to get a “real” job, like a doctor or teacher. Cas said he’d think about it. He liked the idea of healing people again, but Cas he didn't want to leave the Winchesters so soon.

              After the pie was finished and he’d put the dirty dishes in the new dishwasher, he wandered into the library. Sam had given him a pile of paperback novels to read, and he was in the middle of The Hobbit. He liked the story, and was enjoying the adventure of Bilbo Baggins.

              Dean woke up after his four hours, wandering out of his room into the bathroom. After taming his ridiculous bed head somewhat (he refused to give Sammy any more ammunition for teasing), he wandered out into the main room of the bunker to find Cas on the couch reading. He smiled at his friend, and grabbed a beer from the fridge in the kitchen before plopping down on the couch next to Cas. The other man didn’t react, so Dean grabbed the book out of Cas’s hands.

              “Hey! Oh, hello, Dean.” Cas blushed sheepishly like a teenager caught staring. Ever since he’d become human, Cas had acted a little strangely around Dean, a little quieter, and if you asked Sam, their staring contests had gotten worse, if that's possible.

              “What’s happening Cas? Did you get any sleep?” Dean said, a little worried. As an angel, Cas had no need for sleep. And Sam and Dean weren’t exactly models of proper sleep scheduling. The smaller man shrugged, and leaning up from his reclined position to try to get back his book from Dean. “So no? Cas, man, you gotta sleep sometime!” Cas leaned back, book-less and pouting. Dean finally sighed, and threw the book at Cas, getting up to make himself something to eat. It was then that Sam walked in.

              “Morning Dean, morning Cas.” Sam yawned and fell into one of the kitchen chairs. “Wow, Cas, you look like shit.” Though sleepy Sam was a little blunt, it was true. Cas had bags under his eyes, and his face was slack in exhaustion.

              “Tell him what you really think, Sammy, jeez.” Dean tried to console Cas, but he hadn’t noticed. He was engrossed in his book. Dean leaned over to Sam, whispering, “when was the last time the bastard slept?” Sam just shrugged, and got up to make breakfast, since Dean apparently wasn’t going to.

              The three men ate mostly in silence, Cas still reading, and Sam nodding off. He was taking classes online through the local community college, and it didn’t leave him with much time for sleep. He had stayed up most of the night finishing a project, and just gotten up from a two-hour nap. Dean was feeling cheerful that morning, humming along with the radio and enjoying the pie Cas had made. Man, did he like pie…

              Sam had not found anything hunter-worthy in the news, and so the men busied themselves in cataloging the entirety of the Men of Letter’s collection. They had a whole system. Cas would identify an object or read a text (he was fluent in most every language), Dean would transcribe or describe it in the catalog book, and Sam would label and store it. They had put some display cases in one of the rooms, but pretty soon they’d need to buy more. They were only about a quarter of the way through the collection, but they had already uncovered some interesting artifacts.

              Cas was in the middle of reading the first few pages of a particularly dusty old book when he began to feel faint. He was standing in the middle of a pile of boxes, so he walked to wear Dean was sitting and leaned against the table. His head started to throb and he couldn’t see anything as his vision went dark. He felt himself fall down before everything went black.

              “Cas? Cas! Cas, wake up!” Cas had hit his head on the table on the way down, and was already getting a small bump on his head. He was out cold. “Sammy! Sam, get in here!” The taller man ran in from one of the side store rooms, expecting a demon or monster, but only found Dean on the ground crouched over an overly relaxed Cas. “He fainted! Was it the book he was holding? Is it cursed?” The men poked the book that had fallen the floor with a pencil, but suddenly Cas was groggily sitting up.

              “What happened?”

              “You fainted, man! Was it the book?” Dean was already kicking the book toward the box it had come from, but Cas paid it no head, and tried to stand.

              Sam helped Cas up and Cas perched on the table. “Woah, Cas, you had a big fall there. Are you alright?” The small man nodded, but the bags under his eyes told a different story. After having Lucifer in his head, Sam was well aware of the signs of sleep deprivation. “Cas, you need to get some sleep. It’d do you a lot of good.”

              “No, I’m fine-“

              But Dean was already dragging Cas to his bedroom. “I’m calling bull. You are staying in there until you’ve had a full eight hours. Cas was dragging his feet, and at the door of his mostly unused bedroom, he turned to Dean.

              “Don’t want to, Dean.” He was getting a little loopy with lack of sleep. And very, _very_ touchy. Dean tried to wrestle the door open behind Cas, but he only managed to accidentally pin the ex-angel to his door. Dean sighed, looking Cas square in the eye, and glancing down to the door handle, like _I need to get to that, please_.

              Cas got the message, and scooted a little to the left. Dean all but put Cas to bed, helping him remove both his sweaters. Dean refused to allow him to wear his tan overcoat indoors, so Cas had taken to stealing Dean’s old sweaters. They were too long on his arms, which Dean found adorable and rather endearing. Dean smiled down at a very sleepy Cas, who was already half asleep, when he felt Cas wrap his arms around his waist, dragging him down onto the bed. He landed next to Cas with an umph, and when he tried to get up, Cas held him tighter. After a short struggle, Dean finally succumbed, reasoning that he’d get up after Cas fell asleep.

              Cas looked very peaceful when he slowly fell asleep, and Dean stayed an extra moment just looking at his best friend. _He’s beautiful_ he thought to himself, then startled when he recognized the thought for what it was.

              Dean knew he was bisexual. He was usually interested in the hot, sexy women that he’d pick up at bars. But one time, he was on one of the few hunts he had done alone, and was hanging in a bar when a man came up to him, offering him a drink. At first, he hadn’t recognized the man’s flirting, but after ten minutes of small talk, Dean let his guard down. The stranger had nothing to do with his case, and he was _interested_ in Dean. After a few drinks, he had gone back to the hotel with the strange man, and enjoyed a night with him. In the morning, he realized what he had done. But he was not ashamed. So what if he liked guys too? It had never been an issue before, but over the next few years Dean picked up a few men along with the chicks he found at bars. He was sure that Sam knew in the uncanny way that Sam knew _everything_ about him, but he’d never confronted Dean about it.

              And now he was having thoughts about _Cas._ Over the years, Dean had become great friends with the angel, and now human, even when he was betrayed over and over. _Water under the bridge,_ Dean thought to himself when he remember those terrible times when he couldn’t trust Cas, _there were extenuating circumstances_. Dean had always been close to Cas, but he had been an _angel_ , and he wasn’t going to go there. But now that Cas was human…

              Dean shook his head. No, he wasn’t going to sleep with Cas, as much as the idea turned him on. He respected Cas too much to make their relationship purely sexual. And Dean didn’t exactly have a good track record of relationships. He wasn’t going to mess this up, especially with Cas so new at being human.

              He slowly extracted himself from Cas’s arms, and draped the covers over him. Cas blindly reached out for where Dean had been, and Dean felt a pang of hurt when Cas shrunk into himself under the blankets. In a split second decision, Dean closed the door, turned off all the lights except the lamp on the unused desk, and walked over the bed. After a fierce debate in his head, he finally sighed and kicked off his shoes. He slowly pushed Cas toward the middle of the bed, and got under the covers behind him. He reached his arms slowly around Cas’s middle, testing the waters. But Cas grabbed Dean’s arms, pulling the larger man closer to him. Dean could’ve sworn he heard Cas sigh, and he almost sighed himself as he drank in the smell of Cas. He smelled like honey and wildflowers, of berries from making pie, of old books, of _Cas._ Dean was glad the ex-angel’s scent hadn’t change, but had in fact intensified when he’d turned human. This was Dean’s last thought before he fell asleep against his best friend.

 

              When Dean awoke, he was startled awake by the sound of another man’s breath. _Cas._ He thought suddenly. It was dark in the room and the blinds on the window were closed so he didn’t know what time it was. In fact, he didn’t know what had woken him up. He blinked a couple of times to fully wake up, and suddenly heard a whimper from beside him.

              Cas was having a nightmare. It appeared that he’d thrashed around quite a bit since the blankets were more off him than on. Dean touched Cas’s forehead and found it hot. He decided to grab Cas a glass of water to keep him hydrated. Dean didn’t see Sammy on his walk to the kitchen, but he found a note on the kitchen table, with the words _gone to get groceries, be back soon_ with his signature on it. They had finally set up a system to make sure the other knew if they were in danger. The signature on the note meant _I’m fine, actually fine, not Sammy fine_. They also had a symbol for _I’m in trouble, but I can get out on my own_ and _I’m in deep shit, send the cavalry_. They had only used it once on a hunt, but it still gave Dean a sense of comfort. After all they’d been through, he had to make sure to keep careful tabs on Sammy.

              Speaking of unspeakable horrors, Dean decided he should wake up Cas. By the time Dean returned, he had stopped kicking and mumbling, but was shaking from the lack of blankets. He shook the sleeping man’s shoulders gently to wake him, and Cas jolted awake. He sat up suddenly, looking around, as if he didn’t remember how he’d gotten there. He spotted Dean holding a glass of water out to him and took it, taking a long sip. This apparently made him feel much better, so he drank the entire glass before handing it back to an amused Dean.

              “Dean… what exactly am I doing here?” It was obvious to Cas that Dean had been sleeping next to him, though he couldn’t remember inviting him into his bed. He blushed at how the situation looked before Dean hurriedly explained that he had fainted, been put to bed, had a nightmare, and been woken up. He left out the part about the snuggling, because Dean wasn’t sure if lucid Cas would react.

              Cas just looked at him thoughtfully, then smile his crooked smile. It made Dean melt a little. “Well, I feel a lot of better. It appears that this vessel requires a lot more rest than I’m used to.” His words made Dean chuckle as he sat beside Cas on the bed.

              “You gave us a scare Cas, don’t do that again. You gotta get on a sleep schedule, man, at least for when we’re home.” Dean was giving Cas a worried look, but the other man gave him a reassuring smile. Cas’ heart had swelled when Dean had said _home._

              “Of course, Dean. I will try harder to keep my vessel in top condition!” This earned him a laugh from Dean, and soon they were giggling hysterically. The situation wasn’t all that funny, but Dean couldn’t stop laughing, and every time he looked up to see Cas grinning he laughed harder. This is how Sam found them, howling with laughter on Cas’ bed in the dark.

 

 

              Cas had more nightmares, but Dean encouraged him to still try to sleep. After all that Dean and Sam had gone through, they had plenty of nightmares, and had learned to cope. They shared their methods with Cas, but the only thing that seemed to work for Cas was Dean. After that first afternoon nap, Cas and Dean had a habit of staying up too late on the couch watching old movies or on one of their beds reading books together. After a while, one of them would nod off, and the other would cover the two of them with blankets. The one time Sammy deigned to comment, he got such a dirty stink eye from Dean and such a hard blush from Cas that he didn’t broach the subject again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas gets a cold and Dean takes care of him.

              The ex-angel had been human for a few months, but he still wasn’t used to feeling his body and not those around him. He often got lost within his own thoughts, with nothing but Dean to get him out. He was finally sleeping, but as the weather started to change, he felt something new.

              It was _cold._

              And not just a little chilly. That year was colder year than most, and Sam and Dean had just finished killing all the demons that had accidentally been summoned on Halloween when the first snow started to fall.

              Snow was different as a human.

              Cas always felt weird without his wings, but he felt it even more distinctly in the snow or rain. The bareness of his shoulders made him uncomfortable, but Dean did a good job of distracting him. After a foot of snow had fallen the previous night, they had spent the day outside. They built snowmen, a giant snow fort, and Dean had fun making snow angels.

              Cas was helping Dean up when Dean realized what he had done. “Oh my god, Cas, I’m sorry, that’s gotta be hard to see after…” He looked up, concerned, only to find Cas had fallen back and started to make a snow angel of his own. Sammy wandered out with thermoses of hot chocolate, and the brothers watched amused as Cas proceeded to make a dozen snow angels all across the field. Dean would have thought the imprints would have been emotional for Cas, reminding him of all the angels he had once killed, but Cas was having fun and Dean didn’t want to ruin his good mood.

              They stayed out too long and too late, and even with a million layers, they were soaked to the core by the time the three men got inside for the night. It had been the most fun that Dean had had in years, and he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

              The following morning, he noticed something was wrong with Cas. The man had always had a low voice, especially before his coffee in the mornings, but there was something grating in his voice. In addition to this change, Cas just looked tired, and not rested like usual. They couldn’t leave before they shoveled the snow off the gravel road, so they spent the day reading and lazying around. Cas was wearing more layers than usual, had stolen both couch blankets, and was holding hot chocolate as he read. But it wasn’t until he started sneezing and coughing that Dean knew; Cas had a cold.

              “Hey, man, you feeling alright?” Dean looked across the coffee table to Cas.

Cas peaked up above his book from his little mountain of blankets. He tilted his head in the birdlike way that drove Dean crazy, asking, “Of course, Dean. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Dean almost laughed at this, but instead simple stated, “You look like shit. I think you should get some sleep before your cold gets worse.”

Cas opened his mouth to retort that he didn’t need anything, _he was fine,_ but was interrupted as cough rattled through him.

“Alright, we’re putting you to bed. I’m not letting you get me sick too!” Dean took the half empty cup of hot chocolate from Cas, and helped him to his bedroom. After turning off the lights, he walked to the kitchen. They had stocked it pretty well before the snow storm, so he set out to make soup. As he started, Sam came in, also looking pretty tired and cranky.

“Oh, no! Not you too, man.”

Sam just glared at him, grabbing an orange, peeling it, and taking it out of the kitchen, presumably to eat it in his own room while he did his studying.

Alone again, Dean turned on the radio, dancing around the kitchen while he cut up vegetables and cooked the chicken. The recipe took all afternoon to make, but after a few hours, he had made his mom’s chicken stew. It was never going to be as good as when his mom had made it all those years ago, but he thought he’d done a pretty good job. He put a bowl on a tray to take to Sammy, and once he had set up the tall man with some water to stay hydrated, he made a tray for Cas. He added some fresh-from-the-oven biscuits he had made, and made sure to grab the honey jar. Cas loved honey even more now that he was human, and he enjoyed collecting honey from the bee hives on warm days.

He had aimed to put the tray down on the side table while trying not to wake up Cas, but when he entered the room, he saw Cas siting up, coughing.

“Feeling any better, Cas?” Dean asked worriedly. The ex-angel obviously didn’t know how to take care of his new human vessel, and he would need to keep an eye on him to make sure his cold didn’t get worse.

“Is that-cough-soup? And honey-cough-biscuits?” Cas tried to sit up more, but Dean rushed to his side, putting the tray down next to him on the bed.

“It sure is. My mom’s old recipe in fact. I found it in the back of Dad’s journal…” Dean didn’t often speak of his mother, so Cas knew this was an important moment.

“Thank you for sharing with me, Dean. I know how important this is to you.” Dean looked up appreciatively at Cas before shaking his head and sitting up straighter.

“I also brought – you got it – a movie!” Dean had grabbed a selection of movies to watch and his laptop. Cas scooted over on the small bed, and Dean reclined next to him on the bed, laptop on his lap. Cas kept the tray of food on his own lap as Dean started the movie. The opening credits of Indiana Jones had started when Dean could’ve sworn he heard Cas moan.

He glanced over to see Cas with a look of pure joy on his face, the spoon still sticking out of his mouth. “That good, huh?” Dean asked with a smirk. “It is heavenly, Dean. Thank you.” Cas remarked, then realized what he had said. But Dean just gave him a peculiar smile, one that Cas hadn’t seen before. Dean looked happy.

In fact, as the movie played, and Cas finished his meal, he slowly snuggled closer to Dean. They had originally been sitting side by side, but after Cas set the tray on the floor, Dean raised his arm behind Cas. The smaller man leaned into the embrace. He felt safe, sitting there with Dean. Still tired from his fitful nap earlier that afternoon, he leaned his head down on Dean’s shoulder.

As the end credits played, Cas was sound asleep. He’d seen the movie before, so Dean hadn’t felt the need to wake the man up. The more sleep he got, the sooner he’d shake the cold. Dean almost never got sick, so he wasn’t worried.

After lying Cas down in bed in a more comfortable position, Dean took the dirty dishes to the kitchen to wash. Sam was always on his case about making more dirty dishes than he washed, so he thought he’d throw his sick brother a bone and wash his as well. When he entered Sammy’s room, he found him fast asleep at his desk, a video of a professor playing on his laptop. Dean scoffed quickly at his brother, thinking he took on too much. But he was really proud of Sam for finding a program that would allow him a flexible schedule. He could go on hunts for weeks and still catch up on his school work. It would take much longer for him to graduate, but Sam wasn’t in any hurry.

By then it was 9 pm, early for Dean to be tired. But again, there were no hunter-worthy cases popping up, and it was not fun to organize the bunker alone, so he headed to take a shower before hitting the hay. He’d wake up early the next day and do some shoveling. As he exited the shower, he heard a crash from the direction of Cas’s room.

Always anticipating the worse, Dean ran to Cas’s room, throwing open the door. But Cas was still in bed, and there were no monsters trying to kill anyone. Cas was flailing a bit in his sleep, and had knocked a glass off of the night table. Thankfully it was sturdy and hadn’t broken, so Dean replaced it on the small table. Cas was already starting to settle down, but Dean was worried about leaving Cas alone.

They had shared a bed plenty of times. In fact, they had done some pretty serious cuddling just that afternoon. Dean made a quick decision to join Cas in bed, telling himself that he was _just making sure Cas didn’t hurt himself._ But somewhere deep down, Dean knew that he was crushing pretty hard on his best friend, and would take any opportunity to be closer to him. Lying down next to Cas, he nodded off to sleep as Cas sleeping nudged closer to Dean and even started spooning him from behind. Cas was awake enough to realize what they were doing, but he just smiled to himself.

Dean was almost asleep when he heard it, a whisper so soft he almost mistook it for a sigh. Cas nuzzled closer to his back, whispering _I love you._ With this the two men fell fast asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas gets himself shot on a hunt.

              The weather grew colder but it didn’t snow more than a couple of inches the following month. The Winchesters later learned that the freak snow storm had been the fault of a black magic witch who was confusing weathermen all over the country. Garth ganked the sucker in November after he killed a dozen people in as many days for a particularly nasty tornado spell.

              Cas liked Garth, even if he annoyed Dean. He was kind, and had a life philosophy so different from the Winchester boys’ that it made his head spin sometimes. But Garth seemed to like Cas too, and accepted him into their small community of hunters with open arms. Since Bobby’s passing, Garth had stepped up to his place and created his own base in his house boat. It was a Tuesday morning in late November when Dean got a call from Garth: there had been several unusual deaths in a small town in Iowa.

              In the end, it turned out to be another witch, this one more obsessed with demons. The man, who claimed to be over 300 years old, had grown paranoid after his witchy friend had been ganked earlier that month, and had settled himself comfortably in a large mansion completely surrounded by demons. It took Garth, Dean, Sam, and Cas to take down the witch, but in the end they all walked away mostly unscathed.

              Or so Dean thought.

              After Garth’s ridiculous car had speed away down the long road out of the cul-de-sac, Sam and Dean settled into the front of the Impala. They were already bickering about whether to bother going back to the hotel or just driving all night back to the bunker. They were about to turn around and ask Cas to be a tie breaker when they heard a thud from the back seat.

              “Cas? Cas! Son of a bitch.” Dean panicked when he turned to see Cas sprawled out on the backseat, blood seeping through his shirt and onto his trench-coat. He couldn’t even yell at Cas for getting blood on his Baby as he sped down the street to the nearest urgent care clinic. Sam was crouched in the back seat with Cas, holding a cloth to Cas’s wound. The ex-angel didn’t stir; he appeared to be unconscious.

              Dean called ahead to the clinic, who met him outside with a stretcher. One of the nurses chastised him for not going to a hospital, but Dean didn’t hear her. He was staring hopelessly as his best friend, splayed out on the stretcher and dripping blood, was carted away from him. Sam put an arm on his shoulder in a display of affection, but Dean needed more comfort. Sam saw a look of utter hopelessness on Dean’s face before the short man buried his face in the crook of Sam’s neck as Sam wrapped his arms around his brother. They stood like that, Dean not-quite-crying and Sam surprised at Dean’s affection, until a nurse finally came outside to let them in.

              It wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. The demons had been armed, some with knives, others with guns. A weak and delirious Cas mumbled something about getting shot before he fell back asleep. The doctor hadn’t found a bullet. In fact, the bullet had gone straight through Cas’s side. They expected he had been in shock, or the adrenaline had kept him awake. The nurses didn’t even question who had shot him. They just gave Dean the bill, which Dean paid for with his fake credit card, and instructions to keep Cas on bed rest.

              _Like hell,_ thought Dean. Keeping Cas in bed proved to be difficult. Dean would be reading quietly at the main table in the bunker to hear the bumping noises of Cas attempting to get to the kitchen. The first time it happened, Cas was still on some fairly heavy painkillers and was easy enough to put back to bed. But as the painkillers wore off and eventually ran out, Cas became more difficult to take care of.

              As an angel, Cas had felt pain. He’d been tortured, been to hell, been to purgatory, had his vessel hurt in any manner of ways. Becoming human hadn’t been much of picnic either. As an angel, Cas had seen pain as punishment, as a way for him to pay for his sins, his crimes. But as a human, Cas just felt pain as _pain._ It _hurt_ to get shot, but he wasn’t one to complain. After a week of staying in bed while Dean brought him books and food at regular intervals, Cas had had enough of bedrest.

              “I’m ready to go hunting again.” Cas announced one morning. It was his first morning out of bed for breakfast, and startled, Sam looked up from his laptop. Dean gave Cas a _are you serious, because I’m not sure if you’re kidding or naw_ look before scoffing and turning his attention back to his breakfast.             

              “Cas, man, you really need to take care of yourself. We don’t have a case, but if we did, you’d stay here to hold down the fort. We can’t have you pulling out those stitches.” Sam looked Cas in the eye as the smaller man pouted. “Dude, it’s been a _week._ I’m glad you’re excited to get back on the horse, but you gotta _take it easy_.”

              Cas sighed, conceding that he didn’t feel all that much better. He was used to rapid healing, and he was not at all amused at how slowly humans fixed themselves. He still counted it as a small miracle that the human body could knit itself back together after injury, but it was harder to appreciate the miracle when it was _happening to him._

Every day, Dean helped Cas clean his wound and redress it before bed. It was another week before Dean helped him take out the stitches. As he sat on the edge of the bath tub, Cas winced painfully with every removed stitch, and Dean felt for his friend. Getting shot fricken _sucked_. After he had finished redressing the mostly healed wound, he kissed the bandage lightly, then smiled up at a confused Cas, cheerfully shouting, “all better!”

              “Dean, I don’t understand.” Cas said that phrase quiet often. “A kiss has no impact on the speed of my recovery. I am not, in fact, all better.”

              Getting up from his perch next to Cas on the tub edge, Dean washed his hands in the sink. He smiled again at Cas, with that smiled meant only for Cas, as he dried his hands on a fluffy towel. “It doesn’t actually do anything, man. It’s just, like, well, it’s something my mom used to do for me if I got a boo-boo.” Dean giggled after he realized what he had said. “Man, I can’t remember the last time I said ‘boo-boo’!” Cas still didn’t understand, but seeing Dean so nostalgic and open was new to him. He liked this side of Dean.

              It was a full month, about half way into December, before Sam and Dean would let Cas go on a hunt with them. Even so, they kept a careful eye on the ex-angel. After dealing with a couple of ghouls in Arkansas, Dean gave Cas a full run down as Sam took a shower in the motel.

              “No bullet wounds?”

“No, Dean.”

              “No knife wounds or cuts? Even small ones?”

“No, Dean.”

              “Any bite marks? Any – “

              “Dean, I assure you that I am fine. I feel great in fact. But if it would help you feel better about my wellbeing, it would be faster for you to just have a look.” Cas removed his trench-coat and had started loosening his tie when Dean stopped him.

              “That – that’s okay, man. I believe you. I’m gonna, um, go buy us some beer. To, um, celebrate not being dead and whatnot.” Cas could’ve sworn he saw Dean blush as he rushed out the door. Sam returned from the bathroom, announcing that he was done, to find Cas sitting quietly at the table.

              “Where’s Dean?” Sam asked him.

              “Went out to get beer.” Cas looked tired and a little confused to Sam.

              Sam was even more confused. He walked to the mini fridge to find it still stocked with beer bottles. “We’re not out though…” Sam shrugged and flopped down on his bed.

              Cas was even more confused. Lately, Dean had been acting strangely around him, more so than usual. They had grown quite close over the last few months, closer than ever before, but after Cas had gotten shot, Dean had been keeping his distance.

              “Sam?” Cas leaned back in his chair, but Sam just gave a noncommittal grunt from behind his novel. “Is, do you think, well, I’m not sure, but, maybe –“

              “Cas, what is it? You’re not usually so tongue tied.” Sam put his book down and looked up at a flushed and anxious Cas.

              “It’s about Dean. Do you think he’s been acting strange lately?”

              “More so than usual? Naw, he’s always been that weird.” Cas gave him a pointed look, but Sam just shrugged, as if to say _what can I say, that’s the truth._ Sam sighed, conceding, “Yeah, maybe he’s been a little more distant than usual. But you gave us a scare, Cas, getting shot like that.”

              Cas was still having trouble putting two and two together. “I wasn’t even injured that severely, though. I’m healed now, aren’t I?”

              Sam thought for a second, shrugging again. “I think it scared Dean to think that you are mortal now, Cas. You could die any minute, and he’d be powerless to stop it. Cas, those times we thought you died as an angel, when you _did die,_ it hurt him. He cares deeply for you, Cas. He –“ Sam stopped himself. “Well, it might take him a bit to get back on the ‘Cas as a hunter’ train, but just keep in mind that he does have feelings, even if he chooses not to show them.”

              Cas wanted to ask Sam more questions about Dean, but, speak of the devil, his best friend chose that moment to walk in the door, obviously a little tipsy, yelling, “What is _up,_ guys?” Sam just rolled his eyes and returned to his book. Dean set the six pack of beer on the table, now a three pack, and flopped in the chair opposite Cas across the table.

              “I hope you didn’t drive while you were drunk, Dean. It isn’t safe.” Cas looked worried as he smelled the booze coming off of Dean.

              “What? Oh, I had a few drinks outside. Swear, I didn’t drive. I could barely get in the door!” It was apparent that Dean had had more than the three drinks missing from the six pack, and Cas decided that it was time for bed.

              Dean groaned and griped for the ten minutes it took Sam and Cas to dress Dean in his sleep pants and loose t-shirt. Sam left a bottle of water and some aspirin next to Dean’s bed before he headed over to his own bed.

              In the past, Dean had slept on the couch, leaving the bed for Cas, or vice-versa. Sometimes they slept in shifts, or drove back to the bunker to avoid another night on crappy motel beds. But tonight, Dean was tossing and turning in his bed. He thrashed around enough to wake Cas up, who had been fitfully sleeping on the couch, but Sam was still sleeping soundly. Cas had just started to doze off, so Dean’s movements had been enough to wake him up.

              Cas walked over to the man’s side, shaking Dean awake much like Dean had done to him not that long ago. Dean blinked sleepily, grinning crookedly at Cas before his smile turned to a pointed frown.

              “You’re alive.” Cas nodded, quirking his eyebrows quizzically. “Don’t scare me like that ever again, man. _I can’t lose you too._ ” Cas was thoroughly confused at this point, but Dean had rolled over to the other side of the bed. He heard Dean sigh as he drifted back to sleep.

              Cas figured that Dean had dreamt of him dying, and he understood the panic of waking from a nightmare before remember what was real. Dean had lost so much in his life, and not gained much. But he still had Sam, and he still had Cas, and Cas wanted to make sure Dean knew that.

              Cas walked around the bed to where Dean was facing the edge. He lifted the blankets before sliding in, facing Dean. Dean woke up enough to register that his best friend was in bed with him. It wasn’t the first time they had slept in the same bed, and probably wouldn’t be the last, but this was the first time _Cas_ had joined _Dean_ in bed. Cas breathed easier being in bed with his best friend, and giggled to himself when he remembered something.

              “What’s so funny?” Dean slurred, sounding more like _wha sa fuey,_ but Cas understood.

              Cas gave Dean his most shit eating grin ever, leaning up to give Dean a kiss on his mouth, which still reeked of alcohol. “All better!” Cas sing-songed. Dean was so much in shock (and still a little tipsy) that he didn’t register what had happened, instead giggling along with Cas.

              “Shut up and go the fuck to sleep!” Sam grumbled loudly at the pair. He was fine with the two guys skating around their feelings, staring way too often, and even sharing a bed. But they were not going to interrupt his precious sleep.

              Unfortunately, the realization that they had woken Sam up made the situation seem even funnier to the pair, so Dean and Cas giggled for several more minutes until Sam sighed and pulled his pillow around his head.

              “Cas, baby, I’m still drunk,” Dean whispered, almost too quiet for Cas to hear in his attempt to keep from waking Sam again. “But, I want you to know, that, you know, Sober Dean would never say this, but I’m feeling emotional.”

              Cas could tell this was an important moment, even if Dean was drunk and Cas was half asleep, wrapped up in Dean’s arms. But Cas did his best to remain awake, pressing his ear close to Dean’s mouth to hear him better. They could hear Sam snoring a few feet awake, but it didn’t interrupt Dean’s speech.

              “I thought you were going to die, Cas. And it scared the shit out of me. You’re _human_ Cas, and if you die, that’s it, you probably don’t want me selling my soul to get you back, Sam didn’t really seem to appreciate that…” Dean was rambling, even drunk and emotional he was running around the real truth of the matter.

              “Dean, it’s okay, it’s late, you’ve ingested quite a bit of intoxicating liquids. We can just go to bed. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”

              Dean relaxed as he stared into Cas’ eyes. “God, what did I do to deserve you? Cas, I – “ Dean closed his eyes for a moment, not asleep, just thinking. Cas was wide awake, his confused face in high alert. “Cas, I love you. It shouldn’t take booze and cuddling to get me to say it, but I do.” Cas smiled at Dean, expecting his best friend to fall asleep then, having said his piece. He definitely didn’t expect Dean to lean over the few inches separating them to press his lips against his own.

              It was a chaste kiss like Cas’ had been, and Dean leaned back into the bed, a smile of utter bliss on his face.

              Cas was wide awake, though.

              Dean loved him.

              Dean _loved_ him.

              Why did this surprise him? Dean had expressed his love before, even if he didn’t say it in as many words. Why did those stupid three words mean so much to him?

              And why did he want to kiss Dean’s lips again? He wouldn’t, Dean was asleep, and he wasn’t sure if Dean would like that.

              Cas resolved to confront Dean in the morning, see if he remembered anything. Dean wasn’t black out drunk, but he was more tispy than he had been in a long time. Cas couldn’t remember Dean getting that drunk since the weekend Cas had turned fully human. He knew the man’s headache would be no small thing in the morning, so he took his chance to watch Dean while he slept.

              It didn’t feel creepy to Cas, watching over Dean. He was no longer an angel, but he could still watch over Dean. And he finally understood something: Dean was worried about Cas, too. Cas resolved to take better care of himself and his vessel. _No, his_ body, he thought to himself. Humans had bodies, not vessels, and Dean had kissed Cas’.

              Cas fell asleep with a grin on his face, snuggling his face into the front of Dean’s shirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kisses make everything "all better!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I find it hilarious the amount of times Sam and Dean are mistaken for a gay couple, I thought it’d be cute to see Dean and Cas mistaken as a couple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for no updates of late! I'm hoping to finish this story before finals week (also known as hell on earth) begins.

              Dean woke up and wondered who thought it was a good idea to run a jackhammer next door. Then he realized that the pain in his head was a hangover, not early morning construction. His head hadn’t hurt this much in a while, not since… Well, let’s say Dean tried not to get this shitfaced too often. But as his headache subsided, Dean started to remember last night.

              He had picked up a six pack from the store but passed a bar on the way home, stopping in for a few drinks. He had picked up some chick, he couldn’t remember her face. They had driven back to the motel and had downed quite a bit of alcohol before Dean realized something.

              He didn’t want to be drinking in the parking lot with this stranger, he wanted to be with _Cas._ The same Cas who had driven him to drink in the first place. Well, his ignorance of his own feelings was really the one to blame.

              After the woman had tried to kiss him, he politely turned her down and called her a cab, sending her off with an apologetic look. He just couldn’t do it.

              Cas was his best friend in the world, besides Sammy, who didn’t really count. He would always have Sammy, he always had. But Cas? He’d lost Cas countless times. Hell, Cas had died for _him_ countless times, and in worse ways than a rouge bullet. Cas had been rebuilt from scratch more than once, and before he came back as human Dean had been sure that was the end. Which had driven him to drink in complete and utter excess.

              He couldn’t lose Cas. He _wouldn’t._

              Dean, lying back in bed with a throbbing headache, finally opened his eyes and looked around. Sam’s bed was made and so was the half of his own bed. _Oh, right_. Dean thought. _I… did what exactly with Cas?_

              Dean hazily remembered kissing him. _Son of a bitch._ Dean sat up in bed, swaying uneasily as swung his feet around to the floor, perching on the edge of the bed. Cas had left him a note saying that he and Sam were going to the farmer’s market to buy produce, since the town they were staying in was surrounded by organic farms. There was also a glass of water and some pills on the nightstand next to the note.

              Downing the pills, Dean straggled to the shower. He must have been asleep a long time, because when he got out, dressed only in a towel around his waist, Sam and Cas were back and packing up the room.

              Dean didn’t know how Cas would react, he didn’t know if anything had changed. He still liked Cas, but he would rather things go back to normal than scare him off. So he simply walked to his own duffel and grabbed some clothes to change into. If Cas ogled him a bit before carrying his own duffel out to the car, Sam tried not to notice. Alone in the room, Dean changed and gathered up his stuff. He glanced at the bed he had spent the night with Cas in, wondering if that was the first and last time he would gather the courage to kiss Cas.

 

              It was the end of the semester for Sammy, and he had a bunch of essays and exams to do. Dean was once again glad he hadn’t bothered with college. Higher learning really wasn’t for him.

              This meant that when Dean found a case, Sammy stayed behind. It was fine, it wasn’t like anything was weird between him and Cas. In fact, on the drive to Minnesota, he and Cas got along better than usual. Their usual underlying tension, which Dean now recognized as _sexual_ tension, was somewhat subsided. Dean was glad, since he wasn’t ready to discuss his feelings with Cas just yet. Hell, it had taken quite a few beers and shots to get him to say what little he had.

              They booked a hotel, one nicer than their usual motels, but he figured he’d enjoy sleeping in a room without creeping stains on the walls or obscene mirrors on the ceiling.

              The case he’d found was pretty straightforward, he and Cas already narrowed it down to a few possibilities with the help of Charlie’s hunter app. However, something started happening. And it had nothing to do with the case.

              As Dean and Cas walked into the 3-star hotel’s lobby to check in, Cas slipped his hand into Dean’s. It wasn’t like this was the first time, though. Ever since Cas became human, he had felt adrift, had missed the connection he had had with the other angels. He made up for this connection, this grounding, with Dean. He’d stand close to Dean, sit closely in diner booths, and on occasion hold his hand. He usually only did this when he was particularly uncomfortable. But today he slipped his hand into Dean’s for a different reason (though Dean didn’t know this); he was testing the waters.

              Cas knew that Dean had been drunk when he’d told him he loved him and kissed him. He knew that it was very possible that Dean wouldn’t remember any of it. He knew that, though Dean might love him, he was still uncomfortable with his feelings, especially romantic attraction that lasted longer than one night. Cas decided to give Dean some time to make his decision on how to move forward. In the meantime, though, he didn’t think his normal behavior would upset anything.

              Dean almost didn’t notice the handholding, but when Cas gave him a small squeeze, he glanced down at their intertwined fingers. Cas was asking him if he was okay with this. The ex-angel had never been good with unspoken communication, but he had picked up some tricks over his short tenure as human. Dean looked back up as he gently squeezed Cas’s hand back, but he didn’t stop holding it. He was okay with this. He could do this. Hand holding wasn’t purely romantic, right? And he was always willing to do whatever it took to make Cas comfortable.

              They stood behind a couple with a pair of kids for a few minutes, Cas making cooing noises at that couple’s baby in its stroller. Cas had always been good with kids. Dean smiled to himself for a moment. When they reached the counter, they checked into one of the smaller (and cheaper) rooms.

              “Is one queen okay? We don’t have any king beds open at the moment.” The desk clerk asked expectantly, glancing between the two men before her.

              Dean was startled for a moment. “What? No, two queens please.” Dean let go of Cas’ hand to reach into his pocket for his wallet. Cas took the keys from the clerk, but didn't reach for Dean's hand again. Dean didn’t comment on the encounter, and they set down to research.

 

              The newspaper and police reports had stated that three different couples had disappeared. There was no history in the area, or any change in the weather, so Cas suggested it was either a god or a monster, but not a demon or a spirit. Dean had his own theory, but he was proud of Cas for the hunter he had become.

              The reports also stated that the couples were all from out of town, and after visiting the local police station, Dean and Cas found out they had all been visiting the same resort. They checked out of the hotel the next day, Dean and Cas staying in their respective beds that night. The clerk still gave them a flirty wink that morning.

              They drove out of the small town for about an hour before coming to the resort. The small retreat area was isolated, in the middle of dense woods, so it could very well be that the couples had simply gotten lost. But it never hurt to check out a potential case.

              _Welcome to Lover’s Retreat! Rekindling the Fire of Love One Couple at a Time!_ A painted wooden sign read. It reminded Dean of one summer when his father had dropped him and Sammy off at a boy’s camp in the mountains of West Virginia. The camp grounds he now drove through looked very similar to Camp Sunny Lake, and Dean started at the memory. He hadn’t thought of that place in _years._

              The next odd occurrence happened when Dean and Cas checked in. Not wanting to tip off the killer to their presence, they checked in under the guise of campers.

              “Hello, how may I help you reclaim your happiness today?” The clerk greeted them. Totally wierded out, Dean glanced at Cas like, _what is with this guy?_ But Cas was already pulling out his wallet and handing his ID to the clerk. “Ah, Mr. Collins! Your room should be ready soon. And Mr. Bonham, I presume?” The clerk turned to Dean.

              “What is he talking about?” Dean turned to Cas, dragging him away from the front desk. Cas threw an apologetic look over his shoulder at the clerk. Dean whispered harshly at Cas, so that the clerk wouldn’t hear. “What’s going on Cas?”

              Cas smiled deviously at him. “I made a plan, Dean. This resort only accepts couples. Well, only couples who are looking to _rekindle their flame._ ” Dean looked at him quizzically. “It’s pretend, Dean! And I didn’t tell you so our ‘fight’ would look realistic.” Cas actually used air quotes, which looked ridiculous against his pretend-angry face.

              Dean finally got it. He spoke back at Cas louder this time. “Then why didn’t you just tell me you’re unhappy in our relationship?” Dean may have overemphasized the word relationship. “Baby, I just want what’s best for you!” Okay, he may have gone a bit too far.

              Now Cas was the one who was confused. He thought they were just pretending in order to get a room? He’d have to actually talk to Dean about this later. “And what I want is what this camp has to offer. A fresh start.” He looked over at the clerk with this, who nodded at him and started getting keys from under the counter.

              Dean looked down sheepishly then. “Okay, baby, but what exactly is this place?” _Jeez, why do I keep saying Baby?_ Dean berated himself.

              The clerk explained to Dean and Cas that this camp was mostly for couples who were having a hard time, or were looking to get back together after breaking up. “We help them remember why they were together in the first place. We help them remember their _love._ ” The camp vibe and off-the-map location were to isolate the couples and keep them away from their problems, all the while giving them a nostalgic form of fun to bond over. Dean actually like the idea, even if it wasn’t what he and Cas needed.

 

              It turned out that a witch owned the resort. They figured this out when they were dragged from their (separate) beds in the middle of the night to an unknown location in the middle of the night.

              “Dean Winchester and … Castiel?” The witch looked surprised as she stared at them, lowering her hands from her temples. “Ugh, hunters. Now what I don’t get is, why is Castiel, the _angel,_ a _human_?” The witch stood in front of the hunters with her hands on her hips. Dean and Cas couldn’t answer if they wanted to, though, seeing as how they were tied to chairs and gagged. Cas looked frightened but Dean kept a stone cold face.

              “Well?” The witch asked. Dean made a face at her, like, I can’t exactly talk, lady. Sighing, she magicked away the gags. “Talk.”

              “Why should I tell a _witch_ anything?” Dean spat at her.

              “Ugh, enough of the witch-phobia. I’m a _good witch,_ you know, a _white witch_?” The woman gestured around her as if the hanging plants and herbs proved her point. “I don’t hurt people, and I don’t consort with demons. I heal people."

              “I’m sure you do. Then why are six people dead?” Dean didn’t know if the missing couples were dead or not, but that was besides the point.

              “They’re not.” The witch continued to explain that the six missing were not dead, but in fact out of the country. They were in some kind of witch-witness protection, since another witch had tried to hurt them. The white witch explained that she specialized in removing curses, but needed more time to remove the one from the three couples, so she had sent them to a witch in Peru to watch over them.

              “Dean.” Cas spoke up from beside him. “She’s telling the truth.”

              “And how do you know that, Cas?” Dean didn’t believe a word the witch was telling them. He couldn’t wait to gank the bitch. “And don’t go on about your _gut feelings_ , again. It’s not always right.”

              “Because she has no reason to lie.” Cas explained. “Two hunters show up, probably to kill her, she acts in self-defense.” The witch still looked weary of them, but as Cas explained the situation, the woman slowly understood the circumstances.

              She untied them and let them go, promising to help them if they ever got caught in some nasty curse or came across any witches. She was in the know of all the good witches, and had a personal vendetta against the bad ones.

              “A bad witch killed my family. She raised me in magic, since she couldn’t have children of her own. But as soon as I was old enough to know right from wrong, I chose the light. I chose to heal those in need.”

              The witch walked them to the Impala, talking to Cas as Dean walked ahead, who was still slightly confused at this turn of events.

              “You know, Cas. I can give you something to help you with Dean. It’s my specialty.” The witch spoke quietly.

              “Oh, we’re not really a couple.” Cas murmured.

              “But you want to be.” Cas started at this. How did she know?

              Cas sighed, turning toward the witch. “Thanks but no thanks. It has to be his choice. I don’t want to do anything to make Dean uncomfortable.” Cas glanced at Dean, who was packing their duffels in the back of the impala.

              “Cas, he does want this. But he’s going to need a little push. Tell you what, give me a call when you get home, I’ll tell you what you should do.” The witch had given Cas her business card earlier, her witchy one, not her couple-counselor one.

              “Why can’t you tell me now?”

              “Hey, I might be a master re-match-maker, but you guys need _serious_ help. It’ll take me some strategizing to fix you guys up a plan.”

              Cas looked at her quizzically, but then shrugged. “All right, well, it was nice to meet you…” He still hadn’t gotten her name, funnily enough.

              “Glinda. Name’s Glinda.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is terrible at finding cases.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I know nothing about strip clubs.

Cas gave Glinda a call the following week. Every time he made to call her, Sam or Dean would have something for him to do. He went grocery shopping with Sam. He marathoned the newest season of Game of Thrones with Dean. The three of them celebrated the end of Sam’s final exams with a night at a local bar. Then they spent the following day napping off their hangovers. By the time Cas called Glinda, she had perfected her plan.

              “You gotta trick him!” Glinda started. Cas made to protest, but she hurried on. “It’s not like he’s going to ask you out on a date any time soon. You’ve got to give him an incentive to ask you out.”

              “This sounds overly complicated.” Cas complained. He glanced at the closed door. He hoped neither of the Winchester brothers would walk by and hear his scheming.

              “Your relationship is complicated. Get used to it.” Glinda sighed. “You need to remind him of all the reasons why he loves you. You already know that he does. We just need to make it obvious that he can’t live without you.” Glinda chuckled. “Maybe make him jealous.”

              “Well, he’s always wanted to go on a case involving strippers…” Cas started.

              “Yes, that’s a good start. And once he’s good and jealous, you have to flirt with everything that moves.” Cas was starting to feel uncomfortable. He protested, but to no avail. “Now, Cassie, once he’s protective of you, you gotta play that to your advantage. Figure out what pushes his buttons, and _push all of them_.”

              They stayed up late that night strategizing. Cas didn’t believe he could do some of the things she mentioned, especially the last few… suggestions she had.

 

              Glinda suggested that the best way to get Dean out of the bunker was a fake case. Making it look real enough to get him there was tricky enough, but it was made simpler by a stripper being murdered in Oklahoma. Cas simply had to show Dean the news story and imply that there might be _something supernatural involved_ and Dean filled in the rest.

              They first did their due diligence with the roommate and the crime scene. Then, after a quick burger in the parking lot of a five-guys, Dean and Cas rolled up to the strip club.

              Dean actually didn’t look that excited. He and Cas still hadn’t talked about _it_ , but he usually would be all over this kind of case, so to keep his reputation as Dean Winchester, ladies’ man, he would do this. It’s not like he didn’t want to go see a bunch of scantily clad women. He’d just rather spend a night with Cas. _Actually, I can have both_ , Dean thought to himself, grateful that Sam had decided to pass on this hunt, insisting that Dean _go have fun_ and that Cas _keep an eye on Dean_.

              They questioned the owner and the manager of the club, as well as some of the strippers, before they entered the public part of the club, hoping to catch the killer if he came back.

              Cas knew this was his time to shine. He had to make this count before Dean figured out this wasn’t a case. Dean ordered the two of them each a beer, and while Dean was at the bar, he gave a 50 dollar bill to one of the floor ladies, asking that she come give him a nice long lap dance later, even if he had to pretend to look very uncomfortable. He slipped another 50 to a different young woman, asking her to offer him a private dance after the first girl had gone.

              Dean returned, glancing at several different girls he passed. “See something you like?” Cas flirted with Dean.

              “Maybe.” Dean couldn’t help but look at Cas. It didn’t matter that he was surrounded by girls, all he could think about was _Cas._

              Right on time, the first girl waltzed over a few minutes later, asking Cas if he’d like a dance. He pretended to protest, and acted uncomfortable for Dean’s sake. She didn’t stay long, and Cas handed her a couple singles, which she took before kissing him on the cheek and waltzing away in the same way she had come. By the time she was gone, Cas was blushing quite hard, not from the girl, but from Dean.

              It was obvious that Dean was protective over Cas. He was still new at being human, and even as an angel, Cas had needed saving on occasion. To see his best friend being manhandled by some stripper – they were here to _work_ for Pete's sake. He was glad to see the young woman leave. He stopped himself from touching Cas (as they were in public), but he couldn’t help but stare at Cas’ lips. The things he’d do to Cas, if he’d just get his shit together…

              But they were on a case. Dean resolved to be more professional, and turned away while sipping his beer. He glanced around the room discretely, scoping out potential vamps, witches, or other supernatural creatures posing as humans.

              Dean noted that Cas seemed to be getting particularly lucky that day. Another girl, the second one Cas had paid, grabbed Cas by the hand. It reminded Dean of the time he tried to get Cas laid a couple years back. Cas turned around for a moment to give Dean a scared look, and Dean managed to give him a weak imitation of his usual grin and thumbs up. As soon as Cas was out of sight, he went to the bar to order shots, giving up their seats at the table in the middle of club. He could do surveillance just as well from here. And there were shots to be done.

              Meanwhile, Cas and the girl were hiding out in some back room. She had pushed Cas roughly into a comfy couch before he had a chance to fully explain the situation. “I just need your help to make my friend out there… well, jealous.” He was worried she’d judge him, but she just smirked. She pulled some cherry red lipstick from a bag off to the side, applying it liberally. She then proceeded to give him a big smooch lopsided on the side of his mouth. She rough up his hair, and crumpled up his trench coat. Then she slapped him.

              “What was that for?” He had been okay until the slap.

              “You had to look surprised. A little virgin like you? A blow job would have blown your fucking mind.” She then proceeded to spend the remaining time giving him blow job tips. She even tried to demonstrate, but he quickly said no. “Your loss, man.” She grinned at him. He still had a minute, so he asked her a couple questions about the missing girl, but she didn’t know anything.

              They stepped back out into the club. He gave her a wad of cash in full view of Dean, who he saw was now at the bar. _Perfect._ It wasn’t like he wanted Dean drunk. He just wanted him to _hurry the fuck up._

              Dean was watching from the bar with the bartender as this all unfolded. He audibly gasped when he saw Cas. He was _wrecked._

              Now, it wasn’t like Dean had dibs on Cas or anything. Until he manned up and did something (like take him out on a fucking date), Cas was his own man and could buy a blow job wherever he wanted. Just… Dean didn’t like the idea of someone else with _his_ Cas. The bartender followed his eyes to see Cas, then sighed and poured Dean another shot. “If you won’t tap that, I will.” The man said. Dean just groaned at this. Everyone but him was willing to take Cas to the prom.

              It turned out that there was nothing supernatural about the murder. Some guy, just your average fucked up human, had followed the woman home from the strip club, and chocked her in the alley when she wouldn’t go home with him. It was terrible, but not supernatural.

              “My mistake.” Cas said, as they drove back to Kansas. Hell, did Cas just wink? Yup, Dean was officially doomed.

 

              Charlie came to visit, and she was quickly brought up to speed on operation Dean. She had met with Glinda and agreed that she could be trusted. It didn’t hurt that she’d gotten the woman’s number.

              Charlie agreed with Glinda that the next step was to push Dean’s buttons. Dean was already jealous of any attention that Cas got from other women (and men), so they made a list of all the possible ways to screw with Dean so that he’d screw Cas (Charlie’s words).

 

  1. Topless Cas.



Cas remembered the time Dean had walked in on Cas changing. He had only been human for two weeks, so he wasn’t quite settled into his body yet. And wasn’t calling it his body. Dean had walked into his room talking about their plans for the day, seen Cas pulling on his shirt, and walked promptly right back out. Cas had gotten his shirt on to the find Dean in the hallway, still talking to him, just not looking.

Charlie organized a beach trip to celebrate Sam’s first full year back at college. They had a great time, but the best part was Dean stuttering uncontrollably as Cas slowly removed his shirt and walked down the sand to the water. Eventually Dean managed to get control of himself enough to read a book on his towel, glancing more than occasionally at Cas as he splashed in the waves with Charlie. He was discrete enough that, even to a skilled observer, it would appear that he was checking out Charlie and not his best friend.

 

  1. Eye sex.



At this point, Sam was in on the mission. He was tired of what Charlie referred to as _eye fucking_ between Cas and Dean. But if it meant an eventually end to constant sexual tension, he was down with helping.

Whenever Dean was in a room alone, Cas would walk in with Sam or Charlie, who would then leave. This lead to Cas and Dean chatting for a while, but eventually returning to whatever he was doing, be that research, reading, or watching Netflix. Dean would catch Cas staring. Instead of looking away though, he would return the stare.

The first few times, Dean was the first to look away. But as Cas grew bolder, he would casually lick his lips or sip his tea or take a bite of a cookie; essentially drawing attention to his lips. Dean would glance down at Cas’s lips and then sheepishly return to his activity. By the end of that week, Dean would hold eye contact as Cas bit his lip.

If Cas heard Dean call out his name while beating off in the shower, he wouldn’t call it progress. At least not publicly.

 

  1. Pie



“This one is pretty self-explanatory. Dean loved pie. Dean loves Cas. Dean loves Cas’ pie. So we put Cas in a kiss the cook apron and he becomes a floury mess.” Charlie claimed. So that afternoon, she and Cas playfully set out on the task of making three different pies completely from scratch. Apple, cherry, and pumpkin were on the menu. Cas did indeed end up with flour all over him, including a spot on his cheek.

Charlie discretely excused herself to the restroom (aka hiding and giving Glinda an update) as Dean wandered in, searching out the source of the smell of baking. “What’s all this Cas?” He asked as he eyed his floury friend up and down. Cas just grinned and returned to his rolling pin. Dean sighed at the flour hand print on his friend’s rear that had obviously been from Charlie (with the intention of bringing Dean’s attention there). Dean grabbed a washcloth and wetted it in the sink, dabbing it on the flouriest spots, pointedly ignoring Cas’ backside. He turned Cas with a hand to his elbow, and gave his best friend a goofy smile as he surveyed his face. He scrubbed his face clean, then realized how close they were standing. If someone (Charlie) had poked him, he’d basically fall into Cas.

Cas bit his lip and stared at Dean with his soulful, blue eyes. At that moment, the timer for the first pie went off, and Dean retreated back to his room, where he berated himself for not taking action.  _Son of a bitch._

 

  1. Physical Affection



At this point, it was pretty clear that Dean wanted Cas, if it hadn’t been painfully obvious before. But how could Cas make sure Dean was comfortable? It’d been weeks since the kiss in bed, but it wasn’t like Dean was hitting up chicks at the bar every night; in fact, he had turned down several women who had been obviously interested in him.

Cas decided to just act like they were already dating. The only reason Cas didn’t approach Dean about it was that he didn’t want his best friend to balk at such an open discussion of feelings.

Cas held Dean’s hand in private. And when he was comfortable, in public.

Cas had always stood close to Dean, but now he nudged ever closer. He sat close to Dean on the couch until at 1 in the morning, Cas cuddled close Dean while watching Dr. Sexy reruns.

Dean started to return the favor. He touched Cas often, a hand on the shoulder as he walked by in the kitchen. A lingering hand on Cas’ waist when he needed to get by him. A gentle rubbing of Cas’ hand in his before he let go.

But when Cas looked into Dean’s eyes as they cuddled, Dean would look away. When he squeezed Dean’s hand in public, Dean would let go. When he showed up in Dean’s room one night after a nightmare, he woke to find Dean gone in the morning.

 

  1. Kiss



Something else had to be done. An emergency meeting was called by Sam, who was suffering the brunt of the sexual tension. Since everything subtle (and not subtle) had failed, Glinda and Charlie called for a surprise kiss against the Impala. “So hot,” they said at the same time. If they left the bar together, that was nobody’s business. Sam was doing his best to be supportive, but he drew the line at making out in front of him. He said he’d stay home and let Dean and Cas figure their shit out far, far away from him.

Sam made his excuses the next time there was a case. Dean just shrugged, and he and Cas hopped in the impala. They made it to their destination, in South Dakota near where Bobby’s house used to be. They got in early enough in the evening to get dinner before finding a motel. As Dean chowed down on his burger, Cas stared. He loved burgers, and this one was pretty damn good, but he loved Dean more. And he said so. Well, mumbled it.

“What’s that, Cas?” Dean looked up, expecting to hear Cas talk about the case. Or his burger, or his honey bees. He was expecting anything but –

“I love you.” Cas said matter-of-factly. Not like he wanted a response. He said it as easily as he’d say ‘the sky is blue.’ Then he picked up his burger and went to town on it. He really did like burgers.

“Oh.” Was all Dean could choke out. But Cas changed the topic to the case and they fell back into their easy rhythm. Cas held Dean’s hand as they walked out to the Impala after paying the check. Then –

“I love you, too, Cas.” Dean pinned Cas to the Impala. “Son of a bitch, you drive me crazy, Cas. I love you. I love you.” Cas knew this was taking a lot out of Dean, who had been drunk and half asleep the last time he’d said those words. He knew the importance of this moment.

In the end, Cas hadn’t been the one to kiss first. Dean stared into Cas’ eyes as if looking for the answer. He got his answer as Cas glanced not-so-secretly at Dean’s lips. “Dean – “ Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by soft lips on his own chapped ones. He felt a sigh escape him as reached his arms around behind Dean’s back. Dean moved his own hands up to cup Cas’ face, leaning into the kiss.

In reality, the kiss probably lasted a few second, but to Dean and Cas it lasted a life time. Eight years of hurt, eight years of yearning, eight long years of wanting, needing, not deserving poured into one kiss.

They pulled apart as quickly as they’d fallen together. Cas heaved a breath as he leaned into the Impala. Dean moved to step away, looking down to the ground, before Cas grabbed his hands in his own. Cas lifted one of Dean’s hands to his mouth, kissing it. For the second time that night, Dean was speechless. But Cas didn’t need speech. He needed action.

They held hands on the drive to the motel, and while they checked in. They got that one queen bed, and they fell in it together (after locking the door of course).

“We don’t have to do anything, Dean.” This was all new to Cas, and the kissing was already leaving him breathless. And they technically had a case to research.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just. I have this now, and I don’t want to let this go. Let you go.” Dean spoke quietly as he lay next to Cas.

Cas smiled his small smile at Dean and ran his hand through his best friend’s short hair. He would need a haircut soon. “Dean, Dean, I will always be here.”

“Except when you’re not. Except when you’re dead. Except when I fuck up and drive you away and I always have and I always will –“ Dean had sat up and perched on the edge of the bed, facing away from Cas.

“Dean.” Cas sat up lay a hand on Dean’s shoulder. In lieu of words (there would be time enough for words), Cas kissed Dean’s neck where it meets his shoulder. Dean leaned into the kiss. Cas pressed feather light kisses against Dean’s skin from his neck around to his face, where he kissed the tip of his nose, his forhead, each of his cheeks, and finally his mouth. He had moved from his kneeling position behind Dean off the bed and back on, straddling Dean’s lap, with Dean’s arms wrapped tightly around him.

Cas cupped Dean’s face in his hands, giving him a content smile. Dean named it Cas’ _I love you_ smile, and felt amazingly lucky to be the one causing it. Giving in, he captured Cas’ mouth in his own. A sigh of content fell over them, though neither knew from whom it came from. They melted into each other’s embrace, and fell asleep that night tied in each other’s arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love an episode where Sam and Dean check out a bunch of cases, and they all turn out to be totally natural. I find it ridiculous that every lead they chase turns out to be a case; I realize that they probably chase a bunch of dead ends all the time, I just think they are missing out on the chance for a fun montage.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three years later.

              “Are you sure, baby?” Dean asked for the thousandth time that week.

              “Dean, stop worrying. I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

              “Well, it’s sort of a permanent decision. I don’t want you rushing into it all willy nilly.” Dean held his boyfriend’s hand as the man came from the back to usher the pair back.

              “Jeez, Dean, you make it sound like I’m getting married. I’m not getting married to a tattoo.” Cas chuckled. He’d been dating Dean for three years but Dean still got over protective over him.

              The way Dean saw it, Cas was technically four years old. Or four billion years old, depending on how you count. Either way, he wasn’t sure he should be making any big decisions on a whim. But as Cas kept insisting, Cas has wanted this for a long time.

              A pair of wings. Not fluffy angel wings, not even full or healthy wings. The wings that had been plastered onto the ground the last time Cas had died. It wouldn’t come off the ground, which was strange, even for a fallen angel. When Dean and Cas went back to visit the final battle where Cas had died an angel and woken up a human (they weren’t quite sure why at the time), they found a street artist had incorporated the wings into a mural. A beautiful display of grand wings. The artist had opted for bright additions, so Cas could still tell where his wings had burned into the ground.

              Dean hadn’t known at the time, but Cas had snapped a picture to Charlie. Who sent it to a graphic design friend of hers, who erased the street artist’s additions on the picture. What were left were wings, tattered and broken in places, but still Cas’.

              And Cas wanted them back.

              Sure, there were things about Heaven he missed. The comradery between him and the other angels (before they despised him that is). Angel radio playing at all times (he still used Dean’s homemade angel radio in the kitchen). Watching over Dean and knowing that he could protect him from evil. And, of course, teleportation was nice too.

              But he missed his wings. The feel of them, the weight of them, the extension of himself in the space around him. He felt small without them. Charlie had asked Glinda if there was anything she could do. And she said she knew a guy. A witch named Archie.

              And so, nearly two years after Cas first had the idea, he and Dean were sitting in a special tattoo parlor in Louisiana. One of Glinda’s friends, who was also a witch, specialized in ink-based charms and wards. And he told Cas he could get his wings back.

              Dean only trusted the guy because he had given Charlie an anti-possession tattoo free of charge, and because Glinda trusted him. Well, he only trusted Glinda because he trusted her girlfriend, aka Charlie. To this day, he wasn’t quite sure how they had met…

              But Archie had promised Cas his wings back, and that’s what Cas wanted. And Dean wanted for Cas to be happy. He walked back to the secret room in the tattoo parlor where all the (real) magic happened. The tattoo would take all afternoon, at the very least. He stayed for the first hour, distracting Cas from the pain (even magic tattoos hurt!), but then excused himself to the front of the shop.

              Archie shared his space with another healer who mostly sold trinkets to tourists. But behind a curtain on the wall was the real stuff. Dean found fertility (and anti-fertility) potions, mild good luck charms, and books of agricultural spells. When he had first come to the shop, he had been on the lookout for dark magic. But over the years he soon realized that magic could be as good as it was bad; the biggest example being he trusted his boyfriend with a witch giving said boyfriend a magical tattoo.

              The shop also had a section of jewelry, including necklaces and pendants, and wide variety of _rings._

              It wasn’t like this was the first time Dean was blindsided by the thought of marrying Cas. He’d been dating him for years, and known him for longer. He couldn’t imagine life without him. But marriage… it seemed uncomfortably permanent.

              Which is why Dean had laughed at Cas’ joke from earlier. It was obvious that marriage was on Cas’ mind lately. Ever since he’d kissed Cas three years prior, he had learned to recognize scheming. It didn’t help that he would hang out with Charlie more often and end phone calls when he walked into the room. It had happened before Cas officially moved into his room, before they’d had sex the first time, and before Cas had started taking classes with Sam at the community college.

              And this time around he knew that Cas was thinking about commitment. And so was Dean. It was just… a bit much.

              He didn’t want to be “all high school” as he called it (such as the incessant handholding to this day), but he liked the idea of a promise ring. Like a long engagement, he knew that he would marry Cas. It was an inevitability. He just wasn’t ready yet.

              Dean noodled around the small room and the larger entranceway of the shop before returning to the rings. Sighing to himself, he started searching. He found them almost immediately, as if they _called_ to him.

              “Hope” and “Faith,” in enochian of all things. He thought those sentiments captured him and Cas pretty well. He had always hoped for Cas to return. For Cas to not be dead. For Cas to kiss him. For Cas to return to him. And Cas had built a faith in him. Before Cas, he had never prayed. And though Cas was no longer an angel, and couldn’t hear prayers, he would still occasionally pray to him. But he also had this faith in Cas that allowed him to let his boyfriend have a life outside of him. He had faith that Cas would do right by him.

              And Cas expressed these sentiments as well. Cas had hoped for a happy ending instead of an apocalypse. He had had faith in Dean. He had faith that Dean would do right by him too, even if Dean was stubborn and overprotective.

              He found a small box that would fit both of the rings, and brought them to the front to purchase. He tried to get out his (legitimate) credit card, but the woman behind the registered refused. He blinked and recognized her.

              “Kathy?” He vaguely recalled a case from many years prior, back before Cas and apocalypses.

              “Hiya, Dean!” The young woman, who had only been a child when Dean had met her, exclaimed. They chatted and caught up, and Dean learned that after Sam and he had come through and killed the vampire that was terrorizing the town, she had learned a bit about magic and the supernatural.

              “I may have also read up on your life, you know, kept tabs.” She admitted sheepishly, motioning to the bookshelf on the wall near the entrance. _Those god damn books_ , Dean thought to himself. _God damn Chuck._ Dean was glad that the books stopped after Sam went to hell and had nothing to do with his current life.

              “Yeah, well, Carver Edlund seemed to think my and Sam’s story is in the public domain.” He chuckled. He mostly forgave Chuck at this point. He’d read some of the books, and they were horrible enough that he figured he and Sam were safe from fangirls for now. As long as Chuck didn’t write more books.

              After attempting (and failing) to pay for the rings and tattoo again  he wandered back to magic tattoo room. And gasped.

              Cas was lying on his front, so Dean couldn’t see his face scrunched up in pain. But he could see the _wings._

              The magic worked by creating a kind of matter that was like a prosthetic. Archie usually used his tattoos as small prosthetics, such as prosthetic arms and legs for amputees. He had even fixed a missing eye in his day. He had never done wings before, but he loved to experiment. Dean did not, but Charlie had asked for fairy wings, and it had gone well. He only felt safe about her doing it because if it had gone badly, Glinda would’ve killed Archie before he’d get the chance. And Charlie loved her wings.

              She could even hide them from sight with a bit of practice, so she could walk in public. That was one of Dean’s major concerns. But it was summer break for Cas, so he had plenty of time to practice concealing his new wings.

              They looked glorious. When he had left an hour prior, they hadn’t looked like much. They had just been a skeleton, a base to build around. But now…

              “They’re beautiful, Cas,” came from Dean’s lips before he could stop himself. Cas gave a week thumbs up as Dean sat down in the chair next to him. He took Cas’ hand in his, entwining their fingers.

              “Um, Cas, baby, I have something to ask you.” Cas perked up, confused. He didn’t really think this was the time or place. “Well, more like give you.” He looked up at Archie.

              “He’s been good these past two hours. But I need a break. You guys got ten minutes and then we’re back to it.” Archie had another prosthetic to do today, and it took a lot out of him, but he still insisted on doing it pro-bono.

              Archie helped Cas sit up and lay the unfinished wings against some pillow.

              “He’s literally drawing every nerve and sinew and bone, Dean. He’s rebuilding them from scratch.” Cas reach gently around to stroke one wing, which was only partially covered in wings. “I told him to make them broken, but he refused. He’s going to make me as I once was. As I was the day we met.”

              Dean looked up at this. Cas was smilling oddly at him. He’d only gotten this smile a couple of times over the years.

              “Baby, I hope I don’t disappoint you.” Dean glanced down at the box in his hand.

              “Dean, I love you,” was all Cas said, waiting patiently on the table.

              “Cas, baby, I want… I want you. Forever. But I can’t… I don’t… Son of a bitch, fuck it.” Dean suddenly changed his mind halfway through his speech. He hopped up off the chair, getting down on one knee.

              “Cas, you are the light of my life. I can’t imagine a world without you, I wish I never had, and I hope I never will again. But I have faith in you, I have faith in us. Will you… marry me?” Dean looked into Cas’ eyes at this.

              Cas’ smile deepened into something even newer. He radiated happiness. “Yes. Dean, yes.” Dean felt a weight lift off his heart, off his soul. Why had he put this off for so long? He would have asked a long time ago just to see Cas’ face in this moment.

              He got back up on two feet, seeing as Cas couldn’t get up himself, and launched himself at Cas, catching his lips on his own. Careful of his new wings, he gently ghosted his hands over them, sending shivers down Cas’s spine. Stepping back, Dean opened the box with the rings, handing faith to Cas and keeping hope to himself.

              “That’s funny, Dean.” Cas smirked as Dean slipped the ring onto his finger. “An angel who learned to have faith and a soldier who learned to have hope.”


End file.
